After a few days' worth of mornings waking up in the small room in the Misty Valley Inn, the horrors of the past few days had dulled down a little. The room was not home, but it was better than the hospital. It was not complicated, just a square room with a bed and a chest of drawers shoved inside. The toilets were just along her corridor, along with the showers. It wasn't like she had many possessions, so she didn't need all that much room.
Bracken exhaled as sleep loosened its grip on her. Her eyelids were still heavy as stone, and she didn't want to open them, but she was awake. She couldn't put it off for long. She couldn't hear the pattering of pain – perhaps today would be a good day to go and pick up some things. In fact, today would be the perfect day.
On the third day of her stay at the Inn, Bracken had walked the short distance to Forks High School, a building that was hard to distinguish as a school unless you read the signs. She had entered and, despite her misgivings, got herself a place. Her parents wouldn't have wanted her to drop out. She was due to start the next day, Monday. She definitely needed to go and pick up some new clothes – she hardly had enough to keep her going at the moment.
Bracken sighed shortly and flicked open her eyes. Though she still hadn't quite got over the bouts of tears that followed a sudden memory, her eyes were no longer swollen and red-ringed. She rubbed them casually as she sat up, the duvet sliding off her body. She yawned and looked out of the small window. The sky was grey, and swimming with clouds, but there wasn't a trace of rain. This was a good sign.
Bracken got out of bed and walked across the room barefoot to where a small wash bag sagged on top of the chest of drawers. On her first day in the Inn, she had gone shopping to pick up the necessities; a toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, etc. She grabbed all three of these items, and then peered down at herself to check she wasn't going to embarrass herself leaving her room. She was wearing one of her few shirts and a pair of loose cotton trousers that had been part of her school sports uniform back in Seattle. Shrugging, she walked to the door, unlocked it, tucked the key into her pocket, and left the room.
The bathrooms were empty apart from a woman with wispy blonde-grey hair and tired face. Bracken nodded awkwardly at the woman, then peered into one of the mirrors set over the grubby sinks. It didn't take her long to tame her hair, clean her teeth, and wash her face. She felt a little more optimistic about what was coming the day after this, and it was with a higher heart that she trudged back to her room.
Bracken quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, groaning when she realised that her only other shirt was still going through one of the washing machines downstairs. She blew slowly through her clenched teeth, trying not to lose hope completely. She pulled a pair of boots from beside the chest of drawers – that was one thing she did not have a shortage of, as her shoes had always been kept downstairs, so none of them had been destroyed. Bracken shoved her feet into them, grabbed her purse, and left the room once again.
She had been given some money to keep herself afloat. She had set aside enough to pay the bill when she eventually decided to vacate her room in the Inn, and the amount she had left was thinning. She bit her lip. She knew that at some point she would receive what her parents had left her, but this filled her with a numb sadness rather than relief. That would mean they were really gone; it would mean she had accepted it. Bracken flipped through the notes in her purse as she left the lobby of the Inn, clicking her tongue worriedly.
She sat on a low brick wall outside the Inn as she waited for a taxi. This was one of the most irritating parts of living here. Back in Seattle, she had just passed her driving test, and her parents had promised her that she would receive her first car for Christmas. But of course, it was still only September, and she still had no car. She'd have to work on that.
Bracken thought idly over the events of the past few days. Nothing much had happened. Every evening she had trailed down the wooden stairs to eat, but otherwise she had stayed in her own. Well, she had ventured down to call Irisa once, but the phone was crowded and she had hung up quickly under the eyes of the other guests.
Bracken jumped to her feet as a taxi pulled up, carrying a young woman with a drooping baby. She staggered, cursing. She hadn't done anything like that since leaving the hospital. She walked past the woman, who was dragging herself up the stone steps to the Inn. Bracken slid into the back seat of the taxi. "Port Angeles, please," she said politely. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb.
Bracken peered out the window as the car trundled along. Everywhere you went in Forks, you could count on there being trees, or some kind of green vegetation. They wouldn't ever have to worry about an oxygen shortage here. Bracken remembered the tall buildings and traffic of Seattle – it was nothing like this tranquil town. But that wasn't something which unsettled her. It was good. She didn't want anything here to remind of her of her old life, her life with her mother and father and Aden. She sniffed pointedly, as though warning herself fiercely not to start crying in the back of a cab.
Bracken passed the driver a few notes as he stopped the car, and got out with muttered thanks. She was fairly sure she had offended him with her apparent coldness, but she didn't dwell on it for long. Her eyes raked over the buildings before her and, stuffing her hands into her jeans pockets, she began to walk down the thin pathway.
Port Angeles was not too large, and it didn't take Bracken too long to locate some promising looking shops. She flipped through racks of shirts and jeans without much conviction, but forced herself to continue nevertheless. After a couple of hours' tiring trailing around shops, she had acquired enough clothes to last her (in her opinion) a lifetime. And her money supply was looking sadder than ever. She reminded herself to look into getting a job as soon as she was back in school.
Back in Seattle, she had worked as a waitress in a local restaurant for a few months. Maybe she could do something similar here. Bracken stopped at a small coffee shop at midday, bags hanging from her fingers, cutting into her skin. She had almost had enough of the town. Bracken dumped her bags on a table, and sat down. She paused to rub her temples for a moment, and then swept the little cafe with her eyes. It was not crowded.
One of the tables was taken by an aging man with russet skin and long black hair. He looked as if he came from the Quileute reservation down on the La Push beach. She had picked up information like this from eavesdropping on people's conversations; something she didn't like doing but felt it was a necessity. There was a thin woman with her head stuck in a newspaper, and a cup of tea hanging from one raised hand. And in one corner, there were two girls who looked Bracken's age. They were trying not to glance in her direction, Bracken deduced, as she glanced at them. She decided she didn't mind, though she could feel their eyes burning into her.
A waitress, who was short with curly, unnaturally blonde curls, bounced up to them to take her order. Bracken ordered a coffee, smiling wearily at the waitress. The overly-optimistic girl nodded vigorously and went to fetch her order. Bracken yawned and sifted through her purchases without much interest. It wasn't that she disliked shopping; she just wasn't in the mood at this precise moment.
"Hey, um, are you new here?" A voice interrupted her thoughts, which were seriously threatening to turn gloomy. Bracken glanced up through her straw-coloured hair to see one of the girls from the corner sat in the chair opposite her. The other girl was watching with something akin to apprehension on her face. The girl facing her had white skin (obviously she had lived in dreary Forks all of her life) and straight, thin dark brown hair. She also had a fringe cut neatly across her eyebrows, and piercing green eyes. Bracken had never seen anybody quite like her, but then, she had never been to Forks.
"Yep," Bracken replied in a voice she hoped was mildly friendly. The girl probably attended Forks High (she was pretty sure it was the only school in the close vicinity) and it would be good to know somebody. "I... I moved here from Seattle." The girl smiled brightly and offered Bracken her hand. "I'm Cleo! Cleo Mason," she introduced herself. She turned to look at her friend; Bracken tilted her head slightly so she could still see Cleo's face. She was half-mouthing, half-whispering across the cafe to her friend. "She seems cool!" And she was beckoning. Bracken stifled a giggle, turning it into a cough quickly as Cleo threw her a glance.
"Sorry about that," Cleo apologized with a smile. "Sym's just shy..." The other girl was heading towards them. She pulled a chair from a nearby table and put it next to Cleo's. Cleo was right. This girl definitely exuded shyness. She had dark hair that looked almost black, tied back in a ponytail, a sensible fringe and thick-framed blue glasses. She shot Bracken a smile that looked more unsure than friendly. When she did not say anything, Cleo chipped in. "This is Symone! Symone Webber!"
Bracken forced another smile onto her face – this time it was not quite as hard. She nodded politely at the two girls. "I'm Bracken Moore." The two girls exchanged a quick glance, probably reacting to her name. Bracken shifted in her chair, embarrassed. It could be annoyingly attention-attracting, having an unusual name. She was saved when the bubbly waitress returned, carrying her coffee. She thanked the girl and paid her quickly, with some of the coins rattling in the bottom of her purse.
"So, what, are you joining Forks High?" Cleo spoke again. It seemed she was the sort of girl who talked, whilst Symone listened. Bracken took a sip of her coffee, and then replied. "Yes, tomorrow," she said, trying to keep her voice bright enough for conversation – but it dropped a key when she spoke of school. Cleo giggled girlishly. "It's not that bad," she informed Bracken. "You'll be a junior?" The words were posed as a question. It seemed Cleo wanted to know whether Bracken would be in her class just as much as Bracken did. Bracken nodded in reply to the question.
Cleo beamed. "Great! We're juniors, too," she said brightly. Bracken returned the smile, this time not needing to force herself. Cleo seemed nice enough, Symone too – though they were quite different. Bracken shrugged mentally; this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "That's good," she said in reply to Cleo's comment. "At least I'll know someone." The three of them fell into casual conversation. Cleo did most of the talking, informing Bracken about the timetable and other random facts about Forks.
Bracken rose regretfully after draining the last of her coffee. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She'd been here at least an hour – far longer than she had anticipated. She smiled down at Symone and Cleo, grateful that they had taken the time to speak to her. "Well, I should probably get back to the Inn." Symone carefully disguised her surprise, but Cleo's eyes popped. "Inn?" she asked. Bracken silently cursed herself. The two girls didn't know anything about the reasons behind her move, or where she was staying.
"Umm... Yes," she said awkwardly. She looked down, deciding she should probably explain herself but not wanting to look into their eyes when she did so. "My... My family were killed in a... An accident. So I'm staying in an Inn." She waited, jiggling one foot to distract herself from the silence whilst the two girls digested what she had just told them. Cleo reacted first, as she had expected. "Oh, Bracken! I'm so sorry!" her voice was filled with surprise and sympathy. This is what it was going to be like for a while.
"That's... Terrible," Symone's voice was quieter, but just as sincere. Bracken shot them a smile that was more of a grimace, and wiped her eyes furiously when they grew wet. "Well, anyway," she said in a rush. "I should be going. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, right?" With that she picked up her bags and left the cafe, Cleo and Symone's goodbye's still ringing in her ears.
The wait for a taxi didn't bother her as much this time. It was just starting to get dark, so she stood in the shadows and let the tears fall down her face until she had none left to cry. She was wiping her eyes with her sleeve when a taxi arrived, and so was presentable enough. She asked for the Misty Valley Inn, trying to hide the huskiness of her voice. She noticed the driver looking at her from the corner of his eye, as though he wondered what the matter with her was, but he looked away when she caught his eye. Just as well.
Bracken paid him hastily, and ran up the stone steps into the Inn's lobby. The only person present was a bored-looking women sat at the help desk, reading a book with a pen hanging from her mouth. Bracken was pretty sure she had missed the dinner servings. It didn't matter – she wasn't hungry anyway. Rubbing her face with both hands, she ascended the long flight of stairs and walked down the corridor to her room. She fumbled with the key, not quite managing to get it to fit the lock at first. It took her several heaving attempts to get the door open. The nearby guests probably thought somebody was trying to break in.
Bracken crossed the room, dumping her bags down anywhere, and sat on the bed. Her last day, the last day she didn't have to think about anything. The last day she could just lie back on her bed and think if she wanted to. Growling under her breath, Bracken pushed herself off the bed and began upturning all of the plastic bags containing her purchases. She would put them all away in the chest of drawers to distract herself from the nagging anxieties nipping away at the back of her brain.
Folding up the clothes had a certain rhythm that calmed her juddering nerves. Today would be fine. She had told the school about what had happened to her. Surely they wouldn't expect too much…? And she already knew two people. Maybe they would hang out with her, so she wouldn't feel too out of place. Maybe she'd even make some new friends. By the time this thought crossed her mind her hopes had become fragile dreams that were highly unlikely to come true.
Bracken screwed up all the plastic bags into a big, crumpled ball and threw them into the corner. She shoved the things she had bought for school into the same corner, not wanting to see them in the night and think about them. She switched her jeans for the same loose trousers she had worn the night before, then lay back on the bed. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, hoping that the air in her lungs would steady her heart and calm her down.
Tomorrow would be fine. It was just school. Her worries were stupid, surely. Every girl went to school. She'd been going for the last thirteen years of her life. Bracken shut her eyes. Sleep was surprisingly easy to find, as she ploughed through her worries. She really had tired herself out today. As slumber swept over her like a warm wave of water, one word lodged itself in her mind.
Great.